Masquerade
by Ophelie23
Summary: Really, it's all just a Masquerade.  Jade-centric with Jade/Beck, Jade/Cat friendship, and alternative POV.
1. Chapter 1

_Jade_

For nearly fifteen minutes, Jade sat in her empty dressing room, wondering if she wanted to leave or not. All the other girls had left already, talking in loud voices and not really listening to each other, intoxicated by the thrill of performance. They were vapid, Jade thought, but she couldn't really blame them. Usually, she felt the same way after a show (although she never let it show). Usually, she loved to greet the audience after a performance. She knew that it's superficial and ridiculous, but she just likes the attention. She loves accepting praise and flowers with that confident, calculated, slightly bored smirk painted on her face the entire time. She loves the congratulations, however sincere. Even the criticism. She loves that too. Few people would ever guess just how much she and Trina think alike when it comes to attention. Jade simply refuses to show it. That would be like admitting defeat. It would show weakness.

It's a lot more than the attention though. She loves the familiar feeling that you get at the end of a show when you're still stuck in that other world that you've fought to get to and you're too exhausted to get out. To climb out. It's dizzying and it's electrifying. And it's probably the best thing about theater, she thought. And the hardest. It's like being drunk off on exhaustion, fear, and excitement and it feels like you're standing at the edge of a cliff with no idea what's in front of you and every idea of what you've just left behind. It's thrilling and it's definitive and she loves it. Usually.

But tonight was different. Jade didn't think she could handle all that emotion at the moment. She didn't think she could keep her face from betraying every thought that was racing through her mind just now. No. She couldn't. And that aching, thrilling, fighting feeling that she usually embraced would only make her hurt more. The thought of stepping forward off of that cliff was unbearable. Yeah it's a cliff, she thought, but stepping off it feels nothing like free falling. Actually, it's quite the opposite. It's like climbing uphill.

And it still felt safe here in that other world, she thought. But she knew, she _was_ dimly aware, that this security was false.

She took a moment to allow herself to breathe deeply and let her mind drift back lazily. This was something she liked to do when she was alone in silence because it sometimes helped to take the edge of the nullity. But letting her mind wander always required more effort than it should. Whenever she let her thoughts go, they always found an anxious place to rest. But the trick she had hit on long ago was controlling them just enough so as to steer them away from the bad things but not enough to drive them directly into the good things. The effect was neutrality. Beautiful, silent, blissful neutrality. If not release, lack of control.

Today was Sunday. She had school tomorrow. All her homework was done but she still hadn't started an honors paper for her dramatic lit. class that due Wednesday. She was underprepared for her piano lesson this week. She hoped her teacher would understand. She knew that _that_ was unlikely.

She thought about London. She thought about Lily Allen and Colin Firth. She thought about Paris. She thought about Gilmore Girls. She thought about her mother. She thought about the first time her mother took her along to Paris, shortly after the divorce, and she got lost in the Louvre for three hours. The best three hours of the whole fucking vacation.

She thought about Cat for a moment, how she always managed to be so goddamn happy. She wondered if it was all an act, a mask. Somehow, that wouldn't surprise her. But really, Cat had always been like that. Hadn't she? Jade found that she couldn't quite remember what Cat was like when they first met in fifth grade. Her memories seemed blurred and hazy. Like she had tried, purposefully to forget.

She directed her thoughts back towards neutrality.

She thought about Tori. She wondered if Tori had a mask. Probably not. Besides, Tori is just too good. She's too simple.

Jade is good at reading people.

She thought about Beck. But thinking about Beck made her feel too much.

She thought about her mother again. And about her last therapist. Too much.

She needed neutrality.

She quickly went back to the play.

The play had gone so well. They all said it was the best role she's ever played. She had garnered praise her friends and teachers, from her critics and even her father. She was surprised he even came. But it wasn't like he stayed.

Yes. The play was good, by all the usual measures. The costumes were perfect, the music was wonderful, the actors were brilliant. She was brilliant. Naturally brilliant.

_TEREUS: Now I wish you didn't exist. _

_PHILOMELE: When will you explain, Tereus? TEREUS: Explain? PHILOLMELE: Why? The cause? I want to understand. TEREUS: I don't know what to do with you. PHILOMELE: Me..._

It had felt just a little too real tonight. A little too raw.

But there was still something more than the play that was bothering her. Or maybe there wasn't. Maybe she was just overthinking things again. Maybe she should just pull herself together, pull herself out of this reverie and face whatever it was that she was hiding from. Because she was definitely hiding from something.

_PHILOMELE: I was the cause, wasn't I? Was I? I said something. What did I do? Something in my walk? If I had sung a different song? My hair up, my hair down? It was the beach. I ought not to have been there. _

_I ought not to have been anywhere. I ought not to have been...at all...then there would be no cause. Is that it? Answer._

Jade took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She tried to relax every muscle in her body one by one so that when she opened her eyes, she would feel refreshed. It almost helped. She quickly gathered her things, afraid that her courage would dissolve if she lingered any longer in this cold room that smelled like sweat and hairspray and desperation. She made it to the door before she had to stop again, arrested by her reflection in the full length mirror. She stood half-paralyzed for almost a full minute.

She looked different. And tired. Her hair was twisted back into an elaborate, braided design that Cat had spent almost an hour perfecting. It had to come down. If she was going out there, she would not go like this. It just felt wrong. She pulled out each pin, letting them fall to the floor, and raked her fingers through her hair. She thought briefly about Beck again, how she loved it when he played with her hair. When she _let_ him play with her hair. She smiled at the thought of his hands, in spite of herself.

It was better, but still wrong. She studied her face a moment more and then pulled off her fake eyelashes. Ugh. She hated wearing those things. They made her think of the 80's and beauty pageants and her mother. Then she walked over to the sink and scrubbed off all her makeup. It made her feel dirty and fake, like she was still stuck inside Philomele's skin._ PHILOMELE: My body bleeding, my sprit ripped open, and I am the cause? No this cannot be right, why would I cause my own pain?_

_That isn't reasonable. What was it then, tell me, Tereus, if I was not the cause?_

It was definitely better. Much better. She turned toward the door and almost made it out, but the stark nakedness of her reflection made her pause. She rarely left her house without perfectly lidded eyes and carefully curled lashes. Feeling weak, she quickly returned to the mirror to redo her eye shadow and mascara. It was better, she told herself. Glancing around the room, half-worried that someone had just witnessed her brief moment of seeming insanity, (or was it merely indecision?) she sighed and finally left.

~ The italicized lines are from an absolutely gorgeous play called The Love of the Nightingale by Timberlake Wertenbaker.


	2. Chapter 2

Jade

Almost everyone had left the lobby by now, but she had expected that. Opening the doors to the theatre, she found her friends sitting on the stage in a circle and looking half-bored, half-lost. They must be waiting for something, she thought. Letting the doors swing shut behind her, she started down the aisle cautiously. Somehow, it felt like an invasion of privacy; like she had walked in on a group of people praying.

_PHILOMELE: You must know, it was your act, you must know, tell me, why, say._

_It was your act. It was you. I caused nothing._

_And Procne is not dead. I can smell her on you._

_You. You lied. And you..._

He saw her, of course, and held out his hand expectantly. She took it gratefully; surprised by the warmth of his touch, almost shocked at how good it felt. Like she had just remembered something about herself that she thought she would never forget. Gracefully, Beck took Jade into his arms, whispering soft and wonderful praise in her ear. She smiled finally as he gently combed his fingers through her long hair. She bowed her head bashfully, knowing that if he met her gaze, he would sense the conflict behind it. But it was of no use for as he pulled her face back up and their eyes locked. Damn, she thought. Jade let out a slow, thin breath and shook her head just slightly, begging him to wait until they were more alone. Until she had an answer prepared to his inevitable question of what's wrong. And honestly, she wasn't sure herself. But Beck was too determined. He opened his mouth to ask the question, but she silenced him with her own before the words had escaped.

Instantly, she felt relief and warmth slowly spread from her lips to her chest to her stomach to her fingers to her toes. As if he was pouring the all that feeling onto her just by touching her. She was acutely aware of the feeling of his hands; one on the back of her neck, the other on the small of her back. It was peace, she thought, or pretty damn close.

They were interrupted too soon, however, by the sound of the stage door banging open, then closing shut. Jade and Beck reluctantly broke apart (she could almost feel his disappointment) and rejoined the group of actors seated expectantly on the stage, eager to receive performance notes from directors Scott and Sikowitz, but more eager to wrap things up and get the hell out of here.

Jade made sure to position herself in front of Beck so that she wouldn't have to worry about composing her face for him in addition to everyone else. She didn't want to push him away. She really didn't. Actually, what she wanted more than everything was to accept his comfort. She wanted to just be somewhere else right now, with him. Someplace silent and dark and forgiving where she could tell him the things she had kept to herself. Where she could finally, finally release. But it's not really a physical place that she's longing for. It's more of an emotional place, and she doesn't think they've quite reached it yet. Oh god, she thought, that damned shrink is getting to me. She swallowed and forced her face into a determined and stoic expression.

Jade banished all hopeless desires from her mind and sets her focus on Scott. She tried to not think about Beck, to turn her focus back onto her art, but he seemed to sense her uneasiness. He wrapped his arms gently around her own, warming them, and pulled her into a close embrace that seems and feels and looks completely natural.

She caught the sight of a couple of freshmen girls, eying her jealously and almost laughed at the irony of their misdirected envy. Of course, she thinks, she does appear to have it all: the grades, the hair, the clothes, the talent, the experience, the boyfriend.

And control.

Jade felt a short, intense rush of anger towards these girls. They knew nothing, absolutely nothing about anything. Least of all Jade. And Beck. And control. How could they possibly perceive her as someone who has control, as someone to be admired and envied and objectified. Well, Jade thought, perception is nothing but deception. And after all, she is a very good actor.

"Jade?"

"Yes, Scott?"

"Your exchange with Tereus was brilliant tonight. Really, I don't think anyone expected that kind of simplicity of emotion. It's just that much different from the traditional interpretation, but it was a good instinct. Just remember to block it all out. It'll be there if you trust it. And I know. It's difficult. It's probably the most difficult thing you'll have to do in your acting and this time won't be the last. But if you trust it, it'll be there. It's all about trust."

Trust.

_PHILOMELE: What did you tell your wife, my sister, Procne, what did you tell her? Did you tell her you violated her sister, the sister she gave into your trust?_

"Thank you," Jade said a bit lamely. She knew that Scott meant well. That he was a great teacher and a great director, but his words sounded a bit wrong in some way.

"You are very welcome, Jade. Now Cat, if you could just cheat out a little more with your left shoulder in the final scene so house right can see your reaction as Niobe and Philomele enter. And so when you do finally see them, really make us see what you feel at the sight of Philomele."

"But I'm not sure if..."

"You, Procne, thought your sister, your younger sister was dead. Just add in a little suspicion to the shock and anguish and you should be a little more credible. Oh and Victor, slow down your lines and pay a little more attention to your projection. If your colleagues can't hear or understand you, the audience sure can't. Sikowitz, any words?" he added as a final note.

"Go home. Sleep. Eat. In any order that you so choose." It was over.

Slowly, lethargically, they all rose to their feet and departed the stage in groups of threes or fours. Some were engaging halfheartedly in perfunctory conversations others were pulling out their phones to make calls or to send texts or to use as a pretext for avoiding the halfhearted, perfunctory conversations. Jade quickly got to her feet, her hand in Beck's, and started towards the house exit, aching with tiredness but anxious to talk to him. Or to just be with him. She wasn't sure which. But she was stopped with her hand on the door handle by someone calling her name from across the room.

"Jade!"

She stopped, anger bubbling in the pit of her stomach. It was that girl, she thought, the one who just gave me that stupid, covetous, and annoyingly proud look. Her body growing tense, she quietly asked Beck to wait for her in the car. And he did. But not before he gave her a puzzled look which she answered by slowly shaking her bowed her head and staring into her tightly crossed her arms. Instinctively, he pulled her into a gentle hug and kissed the top of her head, then left. She just stood there, feeling a little surprised at the kindness in his gesture, but knowing full well that she should just learn to accept his kindness without question by now.

"Jade!"

_PHILOMELE: Did you tell her what a coward you are and that you could not, cannot bear to look at me?_

_Did you tell her you cut me because you yourself had no strength?_

_Did you tell her I pitied her? Did you tell her that?_

"What!" she heard herself yell in a voice so full of frustration, so bereft of patience, so like and yet so unlike her own natural speaking voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

It was Cat. She seemed startled at harshness of the response. Jade couldn't blame her, she was a little surprised herself.

"Nothing," Jade breathed, "just... what is it you wanted to tell me?"

"Um, you really were very good tonight. Listen, are you okay? I mean, you just seem a little, well, kind of um off. Not that your performance is off. I mean it's like, uh, the opposite. No. It's on. You, yeah, you just seem a little off."

"Cat. What the hell are you going on about?" damn, Jade silently cursed, the mask is slipping. Maybe she was right about Cat's having a mask too. How else could she see through Jade's?

"Nothing really. I just wanted... I mean, if you ever... uh listen Jade."

"No. Just tell me something, okay Cat. Are you actually being serious right now? I mean, this isn't just some pointless bit of nonsense?

"I'm still here okay," was all she said.

_PHILOMELE: And once I envied Procne happiness with her northern hero. The leader of men. Take the sword out of your hand, you fold into a cloth. Have they ever looked at you, your soldiers, your subjects?_

_TEREUS: That's enough._

_PHILOMELE:There's nothing inside you. You're only full when you're filled with violence. And they obey you? Look up to you? Have the men and women of Thrace seen you naked? Shall I tell them? Yes, I will talk._

And with that, she walked away leaving Jade speechless and alone.


	3. Chapter 3

a/n: This monologue is from Painting Churches by Tina Howe. It's very long so I cut it down a bit. I also must warn you that it's very weird, but somehow I think it works with Cat's thoughts.

_Cat_

Cat likes pretty things. She likes perfect things. She likes vibrant colors and retro kitchen appliances and picture books and white sunglasses. She likes red velvet cupcakes and starch white sheets and pink bicycles and yellow cars. She likes looking at colorful art and watching funny films and listening to bubbly music. She likes bright things because they remind her to be happy. Her shoes and clothes and hair and fingernail polish and rings and perfume all remind her to be happy. Her bed and dresser and mirror and desk lamp and hair dryer all remind her to be happy. They are bright and simple. Things are simple. People are complicated. Feelings are beyond comprehension. But then, why do you even have to understand and label and master your feelings? They're feelings right, so you should just feel them and leave them alone.

Sometimes, Cat wishes that everything could just have a color. Every word and feeling and memory and note and movement. Then, she thought, it would be easy to be happy. Stay away from the dark and try to find the bright.

Cat likes markers and colored pencils. She likes sparkles on her shoes and ribbons in her hair.

Cat sighed as she pushed in her chair at the breakfast island.

_Remember what I went through as a child with my great masterpiece?_

She cleared her plate and washed her hands, enjoying the warmth of the water rushing over her delicate skin. She had painted her nails last night. She had spent over an hour filing, buffing, shining, painting, coating, and drying those ten, long canvases of hard skin in bright colors.

_My first masterpiece ..._

She had painted them in a bright turquoise. Turquoise to match her shoes and her sweater. At first she had tried to paint them in black, but it felt wrong to do that to her nails. Jade painted her nails black. So did Tori and even Trina. Cat knew that they did it to be (no appear) more powerful. More daring. More sexy. But Cat had never felt powerful or daring or sexy in her entire life. Black finger nails wouldn't do anything to change that.

_I did it during that winter you sent me away from the dinner table. I was about nine years old._

_I was banished for six months._

_I played with my food. I used to squirt it out between my front teeth._

_You'd say, "MARGARET, STOP THAT OOZING RIGHT THIS MINUTE, YOU ARE NOT A TUBE OF TOOTHPASTE!" It was perfectly disgusting!_

Cat has felt cute or adorable or pretty, though. So she paints her nails in turquoise or pink or yellow. Not black.

_I used to lean over her plate and squirt it out in long runny ribbons._

_They were quite colorful, actually, decorative almost. They made the most intricate designs. _

_I couldn't swallow anything._

_My throat just closed up. I don't know, I must have been afraid of choking or something._

Cat left her house early because she liked to walk to school. Her parents or her brother would have driven her. If she'd asked. But Cat didn't want to ask. Cat liked to be alone in the morning so no one could disturb her thoughts. Her world. She didn't mind so much in the afternoons or the evenings. But morning was her time.

_I guess I was afraid of making a mess. I was always afraid of losing control. What if I started to choke?_

_I thought it was quite ingenious, but you didn't see it that way. You finally sent me from the table with, "When you're ready to eat like a human being, you can come back and join us!"_

_So it was off to my room with a tray. But I couldn't seem to eat there either. I mean, it was so strange settling down to dinner in my bedroom._

Cat went over to the cabinet above the stove and took out the small, orange bottle. It wasn't a pretty orange, though. It was ugly and dirty looking.

_So I just flushed everything down the toilet and sat on my bed listening to you: clinkity-clink, clatter clatter, slurp, slurp..._

She tried to laugh at the smiley face sticker her brother had stuck on the top of the bottle. But the joke was too old to laugh at any more. Cat closed her eyes and swallowed the pill, trying to pretend that it was candy.

_But that got pretty boring after awhile, so I looked around for something to do. It was wintertime, because I noticed I'd left some crayons on top of my radiator and they'd melted down into these beautiful shimmering globs, like spilled jello, trembling and pulsing._

Her phone buzzed on the counter, signaling a new text message. It was Jade. Every once and a while Jade would text or call Cat in the morning to see if she needed a ride to school. The answer was always no, emphatically yet simply no, but Jade kept trying. Cat didn't really know why Jade did this. After all, they weren't that close any more. They were just acquaintances who had a few things in common. Things like theater and singing and therapy. Normal things.

_Naturally, I wanted to try it myself, so I grabbed a red one and pressed it down against the hissing lid. It oozed and bubbled like raspberry jam!_

Yeah, normal things, Cat thought. Normal things like dysfunctional families. Because really, who's family wasn't just a little bit strange? Normal things like meeting awkwardly in waiting rooms. Normal things like mothers having cryptic yet pleasant conversations in those waiting rooms, pretending daughters can't hear. No, Cat thought, not normal.

_I mean, that radiator was really hot! It took incredible will power not to let go, but I held on. So I pressed down harder, my fingers steaming and blistering._

Maybe she and Jade weren't friends anymore because they knew too much about each other. They knew things that others didn't. And they both wanted to keep it that way.

_Once I'd melted one, I was hooked! I finished off my entire supply in one night, mixing color over color until my head swam! ... The heat, the smell, the brilliance that sank and rose._

Jade had seen Cat at her worst. Her craziest. Cat shivered at the memory of it. It was bad, she thought. Bad bad bad. She didn't want to think about it. To forget it. To be as if it had never happened at all.

_I'd never felt such exhilaration!_

Impossible.

_Every week I spent my allowance on crayons. I must have cleared out every box of Crayolas in the city!_

Cat didn't respond immediately, not really knowing what to say. After the play last night, she wanted to talk to Jade. She wanted to see if Jade was okay, but she didn't know if she should. Beck would be there and besides, Cat wasn't sure of what she wanted to say in the first place.

Jade texted her again, asking Cat if her silence meant the usual no.

**Okay**. Was all she sent in return.

_AFTER THREE MONTHS THAT RADIATOR WAS SPECTACULAR! I MEAN, IT LOOKED LIKE SOME COLOSSAL FRUITCAKE, FIVE FEET TALL!_

So Cat waited. Wondering if she'd made some kind of mistake.

_It was a knockout, shimmering with pinks and blues, lavenders and maroons, turquoise and golds, oranges and creams ... For every color, I imagined a taste ... YELLOW: lemon curls dipped in sugar ... RED: glazed cherries laced with rum ... GREEN: tiny peppermint leaves veined with chocolate ... PURPLE ..._

Jade was especially dark that morning. She had on loose, low black dress with grey laced detail over a pair of black lace tights with metallic jewelry on her wrists and neck and fingers and her signature black combat boots. She was just beautiful, Cat thought. All of her friends were, but in different ways. Tori was innocently naive, but she thought she looked more daring that she actually did. Andre was mellow and rational and so musical that even his speaking voice sounded like melodies. Robbie was just Robbie. Trina was zealous and eager but she had a redeeming quality of insecurity that made her beautifully human. Beck was just good, there is no other word for it. His beauty is his goodness.

But Jade was darkly beautiful in a melancholy way that reminded Cat of dusk and of French music that sounds simultaneously sorrowful and bubbly. Today, her hair was down and her eyes were darkened but something about her was somehow effortless. Like it had taken only ten minutes for her to get dressed and ready. It took Cat over an hour to get ready.

Cat never could picture Jade dressed in any other way. Just like it was hard to picture old people as children, it was hard to picture Jade as anything other than exactly who she was. As she was. She was so confident. No. She seemed so confident.

It was almost startling to see her in full costume last night. She had looked like a completely different person with her hair braided up and her eyes shadowed in soft brown and her lips colored in light pink, so soft and vulnerable and feminine. But then she had come back to the theater after the show as herself. As Jade. As if she hadn't just spent two hours being someone else.

"Jade," Cat asked tentatively, "how long does it take you to get ready in the mornings?"

"I don't know," she replied, "like ten, twenty minutes."

_And then the frosting ... ahhhhh, the frosting! A satiny mix of white and silver ... I kept it hidden under blankets during the day ... My huge ... looming ... teetering sweet ..._

"Oh wow."

_I was so ... hungry ... losing weight every week. I looked like a scarecrow what with the bags under my eyes and bits of crayon wrapper leaking out of my clothes. It's a wonder you didn't notice. But finally you came to my rescue ... if you could call what happened a rescue. It was more like a rout!_

"So are you getting in the car or not?" Jade asked rather testily.

"Oh yeah. Okay."

"I still don't know why you've never accepted a ride from me before."

"Hi Beck!" called Cat as she climbed into the back seat.

"Hey Cat. You seem bright this morning."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cat exclaimed.

"Nothing!" he replied, "you just seem like you're in a bright mood. That's all..."

"Oh wow, sorry Beck."

"Yeah, yeah it's no problem..." he trailed off.

"Come on," said Jade as she shut the passenger side door, "we're going to be late if we wait any longer."

_The winter was almost over. It was very late at night. I must have been having a nightmare because suddenly you and Daddy were at my bed, shaking me. I quickly glanced towards the radiator to see if it was covered._

_It wasn't!_

_It glittered and towered in the moonlight like some gigantic Viennese pastry!_

It was so interesting to watch Beck and Jade, thought Cat. They communicate better through looks than through words. Anyone who really watched them would see that they were in love.

You could tell, Cat thought, by the way that they look at each other. That they know each other and love each other in such a way that seems too powerful for high school. And if you really looked, you would see that he protects her because no one else does. No one else would ever guess that she even needs protection. The way he guides her through doorways with a hand on the small of her back. The way he can tell when she's about to get angry or depressed or scared. The way she grips his hand without even realizing it. The way she draws circles absentmindedly on his forearm when they're sitting next to each other at school. Anyone who watched closely enough would see all of this.

Often Cat thinks that she's the only one who cares to notice. And sometimes she wonders why that is.

_You followed my gaze and saw it. Mummy screamed,"WHAT HAVE YOU GOT IN HERE? MAGS, WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?"_

_She crept forward and touched it, and then jumped back. "IT'S FOOD!" she cried "IT'S ALL THE FOOD SHE'S BEEN SPITTING OUT! OH GARDNER, IT'S A MOUNTAIN OF ROTTING GARBAGE!"_

People can be read like books. Some are open, like Beck. Some are closed, like Jade. But everyone can be read. Some people are just easier to read than others.

_My heart stopped! I mean, I knew it was all over. My lovely creation didn't have a chance._

Sometimes, though, Cat wished someone would bother to read her. To look at her. To see her. To let her know that she wasn't invisible.

~Thank you to all my lovely reviewers. I'm so glad to see that people are enjoying my little dabbles in characterization. If anyone has any ideas/requests/suggestions for plays and monologues for any of the characters just let me know and I'll see if I can work them in! I love you all and I promise to update soon!

And just to be really clear, he italicized parts are lines quoted from the play Painting Churches by Tina Howe. I didn't write them, I just think they provide some sort of window into the many dimensions of Cat's thoughts. So it's sort of like a songfic, but with a play. It's a playfic! Hopefully the next chapter will clear some things up. But then again maybe not. I'm just mysterious that way...


	4. Chapter 4

a/n: Just so we're clear, this goes from Cat's to Beck's POV and the italicized section in Cat's bit is quoted from Painting Churches by Tina Howe. The italicized portion of Beck's POV is a flashback. And still, no rights reserved.

_Cat_

"Cat! Are you even listening?"

Somebody was talking.

"Hey I'm speaking to you!"

Trina.

"Oh I'm so sorry, Trina. I just got distracted."

"By what?"

"Do you ever wonder what would happen if you put a balloon in the freezer?"

"Oh just forget it."

_Sure enough … out came the blow torch. Well, it couldn't have really been a blow torch, I mean, where would you have ever gotten a blow torch? … I just have this very strong memory of you standing over my bed, your hair streaming around your face, aiming this … flame thrower at my confection … my cake … my tart … my strudel …_

Cat watched as Trina left. She was obviously upset, but Trina was so often upset that it was hard to tell when she was genuinely hurt from when she was simply being dramatic. People can be complicated. They say one thing and mean another.

_"IT'S GOT TO BE DESTROYED IMMEDIATELY! THE THING'S ALIVE WITH VERMIN! JUST LOOK AT IT! IT'S PRACTICALLY CRAWLING ACROSS THE ROOM!"_

Or they really mean what they say. She doesn't know which is worse.

_Of course in a sense you were right. It was a monument of my cast-off dinners, only I hadn't built it with food._

Sometimes Cat doesn't like people.

_I found my own materials._

"Hey Cat are you coming?" Robbie called.

She must have missed the bell, too engrossed in her own world.

"Oh wow. I must have missed the bell."

"Honestly Cat, sometimes it's like you're not even here."

"I'm here," she said simply.

_I tried to stop you, but you wouldn't listen … OUT SHOT THE FLAME! … I remember these waves of wax rolling across the room and Daddy coming to, wondering what on earth was going on … Well, what did you know about my abilities? … You see, I had … I mean, I have abilities … I have abilities. I have … strong abilities. I have … very strong abilities. They are very strong … very very strong …_

"I know," was all he said in return.

_Beck_

That afternoon they left lunch early. Jade wasn't in a good mood. He could always tell when something was bothering her because she got very quiet. And that afternoon, after Sikowitz's class, she was very quiet. She didn't make fun of Robbie, she didn't throw the puppet, she didn't say anything mean to Tori, she didn't even tell Sinjin to jump of a cliff. She just ignored everyone and everything and sat quietly.

Wordlessly, he got up, took her hand, and led her out of the cafe. She didn't say a word until they got to the practice room corridor. Usually, these rooms were locked during lunch and afternoon academics, but he had a key. They came here sometimes to do work or practice or sit and talk. Or not talk.

Jade sat on the stool and drew a full breath. Her expression was blank and her eyes were unreadable. He realized then that whatever was bothering her, it wasn't something could talk about. So instead of trying to talk to her, he kissed her.

She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Her hands were on his neck and in his hair, keeping his body locked against hers, taking control. She kissed him forcefully and deeply, as if she were worried he might leave. He placed one hand on her perfect knee and the other on her cheek. And he tried, perhaps in vain, to convey with his actions what she seemed determined to deny. That he wasn't going anywhere.

Suddenly, she broke apart. She was in tears. Her grip tightened and her muscles tensed. Jade was crying.

"Do I ever get to be upset?" she sobbed, "Do I ever get to be anyone but me?"

He was at a complete loss for words. He wished desperately that she would just talk to him. Just tell him what was wrong. She kissed him with renewed ferocity until her will dissolved, until she could no longer act or speak or even cry. So he just held her and stroked her hair and tried, desperately, to offer some sort of comfort because understanding was still impossible.

The bell might have rung, but they didn't notice or care.

As he stood there, holding her, Beck realized that those were the same words she had spoken a year and a half ago, on the only other occasion he had ever seen her cry this hard.

_They had been dating for six months, though not entirely exclusively. They were both fourteen and stupid. For those first six months, they mostly just kissed and fought and acted impulsively. One day though, when they were walking in the empty park, Jade paused by the murky pond and said suddenly:_

_"You know, I used to not speak at a lot. For ages. Since I was eight. I don't really know why. And a year ago, I don't know, I just started talking again."_

_This piece of her past came as a shock to Beck. Something like that would come as a shock to anyone, but the really shocking thing was that Jade was talking to him about herself. Jade didn't talk about this stuff. Ever._

_"Sometimes I think the silence was easier. It made it easier to control things, life." She spoke in the passive tone that she used when saying things normal people would say with great emotion._

_"My parents took me to about seven different therapists. They had me do these ridiculous drawings and look at pictures and listen to music and read books and take medication and one even tried to fucking hypnotize me. But it just made me close up even more," she said in that same, unnaturally even tone. "And I... I just put up with that. I would just sit there and they'd poke through everything wrong with me and I wouldn't say a word. It's just so fucked up. It's wrong. And now they're saying... Well, now it's different. But when do I ever get to be upset? When do I get to be anyone but me?"_

_"What made you speak?" he asked finally after minutes of tense silence._

_"No," she whispered, shaking her head. She was too close. She kissed him fiercely, his arms circling her, protecting her. And he understood what she meant about not speaking being easier. There are some things that take time before you can say them. Some things that you can't say just yet. And some things that you can't say at all. _

_"I hurt people. That's what I do. I fuck them up too."_

_"That's not true," he insisted, feeling too old and too lost. These words, these secrets, were out of character, but she was still so Jade. He swallowed. "And no one hurts you, then? Jade. Listen to me."_

_She blinked. His hand held her teary face and he tried, as he had with his voice, to make his touch soft. He wondered if she even knew what soft was supposed to feel like, if she'd know the difference. _

_"I want you to be my girlfriend," he stated emphatically._

_"No," she pleaded, now sobbing into his shoulder._

_"Why not?" he asked sternly._

_"Because I'll break your heart."_

_"What if I break yours?"_

_"Nobody breaks my heart."_

"I have to... I have to go," she whispered after a long while.

He looked at her, still stroking her cheek, and realized suddenly how young she looked. How incredibly, impossibly vulnerable and helpless she looked. Vulnerable, but not innocent. That's what broke his heart.

"Please," he said firmly, "please just tell me. Talk to me. Whatever it is you can talk to me about it," he was losing, he thought, as he fought hard to keep the desperation out of his tone. Jade hated weakness, he knew. Weakness in others and above all, weakness in herself. "Whatever it is I'll make it go away. Please, I know you, Jade," he ended simply.

"No, Beck," she said sadly, "not everything. That's just it though. No one really knows me. No one really sees me. I thought that's what I wanted. I thought it would be easier this way, but it's too hard."

She was crying again, but silently. And silence permeated the small space, making it feel even smaller. It was pressing down on them.

He didn't know what to say

"Please," she asked. This was a word reserved for his ears only. "Don't say anything."

He swallowed.

"I don't want you to say anything, okay. I have to leave now, though."

He kissed her again. Wishing, hoping, praying that he hadn't said anything wrong.

She pulled away, her jaw tense as if she wanted to find release in his affection, but she just couldn't.

"Tonight?" she asked, "Come over tonight."

She never asked him over.

She kissed him again. Trying to find release even though she knew she couldn't. Not now. And she left. And now he was the one alone in silence.

~Wow. That was a little more angsty than I thought it would be. But hey, this is fanfiction here. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it. And if you really enjoyed it or have any urgent questions/comments/concerns drop me a review :)


	5. Chapter 5

a/n: Hello readers! I'm sorry this took a while but I've been very busy applying to college and whatnot. So this chapter is extra long! I hope you all enjoy, it's a bit dark but I hope it's not too angsty. Anyway, I should probably say that this chapter has no monologues or anything because I started actually play with dialogue! Shocking, isn't it? It also jumps POV to Cat in the middle for a bit because I really love her mind (and yeah, I know that's weird). I hope you enjoy and please please please send me a comment or a review a PM (I'd LOVE to talk about Jade or my writing or suggestions) or something. They make me feel sooo happy (especially the constructive criticism) so yeah. This author's note is done. Here's the actual chapter:

_Jade_

The chair was too big and the room was too small.

Jade was sitting in front of a large wooden desk with a row of meticulously sharpened pencils, a blank calendar blotting pad, and two framed family pictures. In these pictures, there was a deceptively happy blonde woman, a less than handsome balding man, and three kids that looked incredibly stupid. Jade felt sorry for them and hated them at the same time.

She hated them and pitied them for being closer to normal than she was.

The carpet was green and the walls were taupe. Whoever came up with the idea that taupe is a soothing color, she thought, was clearly on acid. Framed diplomas hung on the wall evenly spaced and perfectly straight.

Wonderful, she thought as she got up cautiously from the chair, my psychiatrist has fucking OCD.

Jade moved over to the wall behind the desk resisting the urge to throw those ridiculous family pictures and diplomas out the window. Instead, she tapped the middle frame so that it hung slightly of center. She sat down, but she still didn't feel much better.

Soon the door opened and a blonde doctor walked in. She was pretty, Jade thought, but she was a little overweight. She might have been beautiful once, when she was young, but her job and her family had forced her to adopt a slightly less pretty shell. Somehow, it wasn't okay to be a wife and a mother and a psychiatrist and pretty. You could only pick three.

"So Ms. West... Jade, may I call you Jade?" the woman began.

Jade slowly nodded her head while forcing herself to to keep her face relaxed and composed.

"I'm Dr. Hanson," she said cheerfully as she offered Jade her hand.

Jade shook it reluctantly,"Okay."

"Right. So you came in to see me so why don't we start with that?" she said softly.

"No," replied Jade harshly.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know why I came. I just did, okay?"

"Well, it's been a while since you've seen someone, hasn't it."

"Not really."

"Oh, well. Two months, correct?"

Jade nodded.

Two months. Two months. Two months.

"And I am the eighth doctor you've seen so far in your life?" the woman continued.

Jade nodded again.

"Now can you tell me about those experiences?"

Experiences? What euphemistic shit. "You want to know about my other shrinks?" Jade asked as offensively as she could.

"Well, yes."

"Well I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Is that meant as some sort of joke, because that kind of thing really isn't funny around here," the doctor said in an unnaturally even tone.

"May I ask you a question, doctor? Have you personally been on the other side of this shit deal?"

"Please Jade..."

"Because you should try it sometime."

"Are you angry, Jade? Are you projecting your anger at these other therapists at me?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Is it helping you feel any better."

"You know what would make me feel better?" she deflected, "If you would just ask me honestly why I think I'm so fucked up. No one ever has. They've given me tests and pills and told me to draw and write and asked me stupid question after stupid question, but so far nothing much as changed."

"All right Jade," she was impatient now, "I'll play this game with you. Why didn't you speak for so much of your childhood and what made you decide to start talking again?"

Jade was angry. And she knew that she was prejudging this woman and that she was doing everything wrong, but she didn't care. She just wanted to be alone and the last thing she needed was another stranger trying to tell her how she felt.

"You want me to talk? Okay, I'll talk. My mother is a manic depressive. My dad left her when I was eight years old. I grew up basically on my own with a half-crazy, half-medicated mother so yeah, I didn't talk because it was just easier not to. It is really that simple. And I've only ever told one person why I started speaking again so the second sure as hell won't be you."

She stopped there and waited for the doctor to say something.

"Well that's a start, but you didn't really answer my question," the doctor said, "May I ask another?"

"That depends," countered Jade.

"What, exactly, are you afraid of?" she asked, "It just seems to me like you're running away from something."

"Is that another way of saying manic?" Jade said quietly, trying desperately to hold back salty tears.

"No."

"Well," Jade said, "I don't know. Isn't it your job to tell me."

"No."

"Oh," Jade said, her anger slowly returning, "I was under the impression that it was."

"Please try, Jade."

"I think I'm going to get back to you on that."

Tears, angry tears, were fighting their way out now.

She was excused then and she left, unable to keep her emotions under control. But she knew she would have to come back though.

She was angry, so angry and so sad and so helpless. After the play and Cat and the crying and Beck, she didn't think she could take this any longer. So she left, stormed out of the office and got in her car.

She left angry, but halfway home she became tired and drained. She had no more tears, thank god, but when she got home her mother was sitting at the kitchen table. The school must have called her when she didn't show up to last period because Jade's mother never sat at the kitchen table.

Lila Shawn was the elegant sort of woman who looked ten years younger that she actually was and had eyes and a laugh like money, not that she always had it. She married rich, didn't sign a prenup, got divorced, and started a career in fashion editing. The perfect industry for former and current crazies. Jade always said she was a cliché.

Lila didn't talk about growing up or her family or anything before her marriage, so Jade learned to stop asking. In fact, Jade had learned at an early age to accept that her relationship with her mother would never be anything close to what she wanted it to be. It had always been so difficult. So exhausting.

Jade sat down across from her mother, too exhausted to even try to escape. Lila didn't say anything, though. They just sat there. Finally, after ten minutes Jade's mother spoke.

"You really are beautiful, you know?"

"So are you, mom."

"I wanted to be."

They were always awful at these kinds of conversations. At all kinds of conversations.

"I saw that doctor today."

"Oh?"

"I went over after lunch. That's why I missed class."

"And?"

"No."

"I you think that you..."

"I'm not going back."

"Jade."

"No. I'm not. She's a fucking idiot. I won't do it. You have got to stop making me to to see these people because it doesn't work. Okay?"

She was angry again.

"Jade. I don't care if she's the craziest lunatic out there. You're going."

"Why?"

She was standing now.

"Sit down Jade. You have no idea..."

"Yeah, I thing I have a pretty good idea. I have just as good of an idea as you."

"Well that's your prerogative to say so."

"I'm not going back on the meds either. I'm not crazy."

"You'll do what she tells you."

"Do I have to do what you tell me?"

"Yes. And I'm telling you to do what she tells you to do."

"Just because you prefer to be medicated rather than talk about things doesn't mean I do too. I'm not you."

"Don't you dare tell me off about not talking. I'm your mother. If I don't want to tell you things, I don't have to. I love you Jade, but sometimes I think it's you who needs to do a bit more listening. I've tried talking. So don't you dare."

"Are you angry, mom?"

"I not angry, Jade. I'm just trying to make you understand."

"I do."

"No Jade. You don't."

"Yes mom. I do! I understand everything."

"I cannot have this conversation with you right now."

"Mom, please."

Tears were burning the corners of her eyes.

"I'm leaving for the airport in ten minutes. The taxi is on its way."

"You're always leaving."

"What was that?"

"I said I'm sorry this is the last conversation we have before you leave."

"I'll be gone for three weeks."

"Yeah, I know."

"Are you going to say goodbye?"

"Goodbye."

_Cat_

"Hi."

"Hey."

Cat tried to remember the last time she and Jade actually had a real conversation, "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yeah."

Cat could see that Jade was upset. She looked small and the edge of her voice was softened by something that sounded like sadness. Melancholy, she thought.

"Why do you wear so much black?"

"Why do you wear so much pink?"

Jade was good a deflections.

"That isn't an answer to my question."

"Yeah, well my father always told me that the best answer to any question is another question."

Cat didn't respond. She just sat silently starring at her glass of water on the marble counter top. Cat wore pink because it made her feel good. That's why people wear clothes, right? To feel good and happy? So why does Jade always wear dark colors? Either darkness makes her happy or she doesn't want to be happy. Both thoughts were scary.

"Why did you ask me to come over?"

"My mother left today for London."

"Oh wow."

"So, I don't know, I guess I was just looking for someone to talk to."

"And did you?" Cat asked.

"Did I what?" Jade said, a little annoyed now.

"Did you find someone?" Cat asked.

"Well you tell me," Jade said with just a hint of her usual condescension.

"I'm confused."

Jade was silent for a while.

"Hey Jade?"

"Yeah?" she said, not meeting Cat's eyes.

"Where did you go after lunch today."

"Oh," Jade said softly, "you noticed I left."

"Yeah."

"Well, I saw another doctor today."

"Oh."

"Can I tell you about it?"

"Why?"

"Because, Cat, sometimes I feel like talking about things and you're the only one who understands."

"Yeah, but why am I the _only_ one?"

"Because you're the only person who knows."

"You haven't told him ever?"

"No. Not everything. And I really don't see how it's any of your business."

"Sorry."

Cat apologized a lot. She had learned very young that if you thank people for everything and apologize for things that you don't even understand, people will generally let you alone.

_Jade_

Jade was silent for a long time. She just sat there with Cat at the kitchen counter where she had just had a fight with her mother. Cat, actually, was comfortable with silence. At least when they weren't with the others.

Jade likes quiet people best. People who don't feel like they need to fill every second with noise. People like Beck and Cat and even Andre. It's better that way, really. Less pressure.

Jade wanted to tell Cat about things. She wanted to confide with someone who could understand. She nervously tapped her fingers on the counter, playing the melodies to clair de lune on the invisible piano keys.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it right now," Cat said suddenly.

Jade didn't respond. She just continued to stare at the granite counter, made gleaming by the late afternoon sun reflecting light off its surface.

"Do you want to know why I like darkness?"

"Yes."

"It's quiet."

"I see."

"Do you?"

"No. Not really," Cat said, "But your not quiet anymore."

"Maybe," Jade trailed off, "I know why you like brightness."

"Do you?"

"Yes. It helps you to be happy, right? It makes it easier, you know. That's what darkness does for me."

"No."

"What?"

"It's different for me, Jade." This was something she needed to say. "I'm not like you, okay. It wasn't easy and it's still not. I didn't have someone like Beck. I had to go through that by myself."

"Cat."

"No. Maybe you should realize that you don't know everything about everyone. You're the smartest person I know, Jade, but there are some things that you just can't know."

"I know," her voice was very low now.

"What?" asked Cat.

"I know. So don't say that I don't. I know what the doctors and the shrinks and the analysts are like. And I didn't have my parents either. You know how my mom can get when she's up and down. Even when she's not, all they ever care about is themselves and their money and that I'm pretty and smart. Who cares if I'm fucked up as long as I'm perfect," she breathed, "So I know, Cat. I know it's shit."

Jade was angry again. And after anger usually came fear, then sadness, then hate.

"You should go now."

"Goodbye Jade. Maybe tomorrow you'll feel like talking."

As soon as Cat left, Jade realized that she didn't want to be alone after all. She looked around the silent, empty house and screamed. But no. She could not afford to get angry right now. Her thoughts raced back to the pills she used to take when she felt like this. She was overcome with that need all of a sudden. But she was better now, at least that's what she told herself. And she was better than that. Jade was not crazy.

She did the dishes first, then dusted the glass coffee table in the sitting room. She then reorganized her bookshelf. Once that was done she went on to her mother's which took even less time because all her mother ever read were parenting books (ironic, isn't it?), chick lit, and magazines.

After this she decided that she had better call Beck before her neurosis got any worse. He said he would come, of course. Jade decided to take a shower while she waited. Feeling alone in the house, she put her ipod on shuffle and turned the speakers up to maximum volume. It helped a little. So did the shower. She sat on the tile floor, feeling the water beat down on her shoulders, letting the pressure massage away her tension.

There was something so satisfying about washing your body, she thought, like badness was actually washing down the drain. Deciding not to even bother with her hair, she got dressed and hurried down stairs. She waited only a few anxious minutes before he came. Beck always looked so assured, she thought.

"Do you want to talk?" was the first thing he asked.

"No," she replied quietly but steadily, "I want to drive."

So they left.


	6. Chapter 6

a/n: All right so apparently the writing gods have decided to bless me with simultaneous inspiration and insomnia so here's the latest chapter. I tried to stir in a little light fluff to my usual mix of angsty emotions so let me know what you think! This chapter also does not include any monologues or flashbacks, only a change in POV at the very end, but I do promise that the next chapter will include some lines from my absolute favorite play so stay tuned! Also, this chapter is sort of dedicated to **Lovely_Amelie** who gets where my inspiration in this particular chapter is coming from. And also a big thank you to ALL my lovely reviewers! It sounds cheesy, but they really do motivate me to keep going! Author's ramblings...over.

_Beck_

He was worried about her now. But at the same time he knew that one wrong move and she would lash out or worse, close up. It really pained him to see Jade like this. Like she was fighting a war all by herself, refusing to let anyone or anything in. Her hair was damp, he noticed. It was curling into waves that swept like a curtain in front of her face. She had changed her clothes since the afternoon and he noticed that she was not wearing anything black. Just a soft purple dress over a pair of grey leggings and blue converse. What was more, she was not wearing any makeup at all. He had seen her without it, of course, but for whatever reason, it was particularly jarring now. She was beautiful, he thought. And he loved her.

He kept driving, aimlessly without direction, glancing over at her every once and a while. The sweet California sun was lighting her face, making her look impossibly soft and pretty and young. Like she had that day in the park two years ago. Like a stranger. He wanted desperately to kiss her, to know her all over again and know everything, but he kept driving.

She was giving him directions now. And though he wasn't entirely sure if she knew where she was going, he kept driving.

They ended up at the park. He had a feeling that she wanted to stop here. She hadn't said it, but he knew she wanted to be here. He had gotten used to interpreting silence.

They walked across the lawns, hands entwined, so acutely aware that they didn't do things like this. They, Beck and Jade, didn't stroll through golden fields with the sun setting gloriously in the horizon. But they were, and they did. Somehow, it felt natural. Somehow, it felt real.

She ran and he ran after her, chasing her around the empty park until the both fell to the ground, laughing like children. She rolled onto her back and stayed silent for along time, looking expectantly up at something in the sky. So he waited as sky turned its color overhead.

"I should tell you," she began quietly, "...there are some things I should tell you. I owe you a lot of explanation."

He simply stared at her, trying not to allow himself to hope for anything, "You don't owe me anything."

"Yes I do," she was visibly upset now so he took her hand in his. She continued seemingly without notice, "You don't know it but there are things I haven't told you. There are things I haven't told anyone. And I don't even know if I can tell you everything, but this is me trying."

"Jade." He gently squeezed her hand.

"No Beck. I don't need you to coddle me or kiss me or tell me that everything is going to be all right. I don't need anyone to do that. It's all lies anyway."

"Jade."

She let go of his hand and continued to stare up at the sky.

"Just listen to me. Please. I'm going to start now. Two years ago, when we were fourteen, I told you that I didn't really talk from age eight to thirteen. Well that's not really the whole truth. My parents divorced when I was eight. My mom is very difficult to live with. She... she has... she has a lot of problems."

Jade paused and took a steadying breath.

"She's manic depressive, actually. And that's hard to live with. Sometimes... sometimes she would go on these episodes when she was off her meds and, well, my dad left. And it fucked me up."

"Jade, you don't have to tell me everything right away," he tried.

"I guess I couldn't take all that anger and sadness. So I stopped talking to anyone who yelled at me. Then I stopped talking to everyone who pitied me. Then the people who tried to fix me. Then the people who didn't understand me. Until there was hardly anyone left. It was just so easy to stop answering the questions because after a while, people quit asking."

She paused again, but he remained silent.

"I still talked to teachers and to a couple shrinks and even a few other kids, but only when it was necessary. I just didn't see the point of all that unnecessary talking. I played the piano and read a lot of books though. And plays too. I would read those out loud when no one was home. Just Shakespeare at first. But then everything. I read everything. And I'd do them at school even. It felt different, you know? It felt good. Maybe because they weren't my words."

He pulled her close so that she could feel and know him right at that moment of them lying on the impossibly green grass if only in a physical way and she kept going.

"Well, anyway. Everyone eventually got used to it. I think my father might have given my school a donation because they never really cared. Private schools will do just about anything you ask if you write them a big enough check. The girls were fine with it too. At least they ignored me and I ignored them. Or maybe they were just scared of me. "

He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, sensing a break in her speech, but she kept going.

"And then at the end of seventh grade," she broke off, "at the end of that year I," she couldn't continue. "That year, that summer, something..."

The colors were so saturated.

"Something happened then. My mom was down. She was really down. And I was just trying to keep everything together. And my dad was gone and my brother stopped calling. So I just, I just didn't know what to do. And I was in and out of this therapy and counseling. And I was out all the time with these kids and we were doing all this shit and I started going up and down too. I started seeing things and hearing things and doing things. And I was so confused."

"Jade," he pleaded, "I'll make it stop. I'll do anything."

And the pain in his voice sent her over the edge.

"But Beck, don't you see? That was the summer I met you. And you didn't know, but from the moment I saw you _I_ knew. I knew you were good and amazing and the closest I'd get. So I couldn't tell you all of this cause it would just fuck everything up. It would ruin it. You'd know what I am. I'm so sorry. Because you hate secrets. I know."

He knew she was done. And then all of a sudden she was crying again. Angry, yet silent tears fell from her eyes as her body shook and her hands trembled. Anguish, this was. And he could do nothing to stop it.

"I really, really want to tell you," she choked out, "I used to be... I used to be stronger then. But you, now... you've made me weak... you..."

"Jade. No. I love you. I really love you," and he did, "This is what love is supposed to feel like."

But she just kept crying.

They lay there until the sky faded into darkness and all they could hear were the cars in the distance. Until all they could feel was the earth and each other. Until tears and even thoughts stopped flowing and breathing became organic and listening became easy. Until silence and sleep.

_..._

_Jade_

Jade woke in a panic, unsure of where she was and how she got there. They had fallen asleep in the park, she realized, as she lifted Beck's jacket off of her shoulders. It was peaceful and calm, she thought, as she slowly rose to a sitting position. Jade looked out at the scene before her; an oasis of green grass under a pink sky in the middle of the city. They were outliers, she thought. She and Beck and really everyone at their messed up little school.

She looked at him sleeping comfortably on the ground, their limbs still entwined and their hands still clasped. He looked young, she thought. He looked like the boy she met two years ago.

He was stirring now, although it was still early, and half asleep, he pulled her closer into his arms. She woke him fully with a long, sweet kiss. She relaxed into his body, feeling his warmth spread on her own skin. She felt his hands searching over her back, trying to memorize her skin. She felt his lips tracing over her own, then onto her cheek and her neck and her collarbone and her shoulder. She sensed a kind of emotional desperation in his kisses and hands. It felt like an apology.

She broke the kiss. "I love you."

She waited.

He blinked.

"I love you," he said.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For making you worry about me."

He simply shook his head and kissed her, this time more forcefully.

She broke the kiss again, albeit reluctantly. "I need you."

She waited, but he didn't need time.

"I love you."

**...**

**a/n: Okay, so probably not your standard definition of fluff. Or any definition for that matter. Oops! Review and critique please :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n: Well hello there. I'm sorry this took so long, but I've been busy dealing with all manners of unpleasant things (school, life, etc.) so I've had to put this on hold. It's fairly short and mostly FLASHBACK, but it's probably my favorite so far. I know I promised to use a play in this one, but it didn't fit. Sometimes they do and sometimes they really don't. I will eventually use it though! And don't worry, I will finish this story. Eventually. Information you may or may not find important: Jade has a brother named Eric and I made him up; again, her mother's name is Lila and her parents divorced when she was younger; this chapter is definitely dark and probably out of character but then again, I've pretty much making up her character and writing darkly for the first six chapters so you've probably learned to accept that by now. Love, Ophelie23.**

Jade looked around the silent, empty house and closed the door quietly. She took off her jacket and let it fall on the floor. She moved upstairs then, removing all her clothes and letting them drop messily on the floor. She was too tired to care.

They had left the park just as the sun was rising. He needed to get home before school, just to let his parents know he was okay. Sometimes Jade envied that. Growing up, it was always her mother who needed checking up on and it was always Jade who did the checking.

She started running the water for a bath, letting it heat up so that it was almost too hot. She felt cold and stiff from the night outdoors. But then again, Jade usually felt cold and stiff. She slowly lowered herself into the scalding water, but the warmth didn't go deeper than her skin. She still felt chilled.

_The sharp air of 2 a.m. pricked her pale skin. Gooseflesh appeared on her arms, but she was impervious to the cold. All she felt was numbness. She had ended up here somehow. She wasn't really sure. These days (well, nights) she seemed to drift from one noisy, colorful, saturated party to another. She felt sick from all the color, from all the sound and loudness, from all the ringing of excess and youth. Because she was young._

_She seemed to float, allowing herself to be taken from one place to another. Allowing herself to be given expensive weed and cheap alcohol and stollen pills. Allowing herself to turn over control to the world. She was resigned. But it didn't feel as free as she thought it would._

_She was at the beach, but it was a different beach than she normally knew. It was smaller and more wild, like it hadn't been imprinted on by thousands of sweaty tourists. Her eyes were following a lone seagull as it made its graceless flight from the parking lot where she stood, looking, watching, to the black sea. It wasn't beautiful._

_She made her way slowly down to the sand. It felt damp and cold underneath her bare feet. Somehow, she had lost her shoes._

_She felt tired, she realized. But her mind was as restless as ever. It kept flickering like an old film, the distinction between past and present, between reality and illusion, fracturing and splintering violently. Memory can do strange things to the mind._

_Time became blurred by the drugs and the melancholic loneliness._

_They all say that fourteen is a tough age. But when adults say things like that, it's empty. It's meaningless. They're own memories have been too long sitting, been distorted and damaged by years of inaction._

_It had been a year since she stopped seeing her dad and her brother. And in that year she allowed herself to sink into her mother's world. Without Eric there to look after them (although she would never admit she needed looking after), Lila had sunk even further into half-medicated depression. But it was better than the alternative. So Jade ignored her. She knew it was wrong. It was bad. But she was scared of getting too close to Lila when she was down. She was scared of what could happen to her. That she would end up the same._

_So she lulled herself into a world of ghosts and moonlight and water and cigarettes. She lulled herself into a world of illusions and streetlights and city busses and fast. She spent her nights (and early mornings) just watching, tiredness trickling down her mind. Illusion and golden figures, faces, fast, fast, fast, slow. They told her with joking tones that she didn't even need the drugs (looking for euphoria but getting nothing but hysteria). She tripped on her own thoughts. Reality wasn't even real anymore._

_She wanted to feel again. She wanted the unbearable droning ringing of the world to stop. To mute. She wanted too much. She wanted someone who would tuck her into bed at night. She wanted someone who would whisper untruthful, but hopeful things into her ear. She wanted someone to shelter her and shield her from everything. She wanted someone, anyone, who could make it all go away. She wanted life, she wanted feeling. But all she got was emptiness. A hollow shell._

_She wandered back up to the pier then and looked out from the edge of the plank. Leaning over the edge of the rail, she pierced her skin with the blade, not even bothering to notice her own trembling hands. She watched, detached, as a single pure drop of blood spilled like paint onto an untouched surface of cool glassy water. At once her head swam, her mind filled with a dull, deafening drone. The blade slipped from her shaking fingers. Her thoughts were bursting with agonizing want. Someone. Someone. Someone. She might have screamed._

_It was delayed grief and guilt. Grief for the loneliness of life without her father and brother. The family she was kept from. The people she loved. The person she loved. The one person, her only brother. She had been there for him. She had chased away his monsters. She had saved him. And now he wasn't there for her. Jade has monsters too. Flood. Flooded with guilt for everything she had done since she last saw him. For violating every unspoken agreement between them. Take care of mom. Be good, Jade._

_Be good, Jade._

_Desperate, exhausted, numb. She could do nothing else but throw herself into the black water. The warm Pacific water was eerily calming. She relaxed her body, trying to stay submerged. Silver silence filled the moment and she felt momentary relief crash into her. She wasn't suicidal. She just wanted all that noise to stop. She just wanted to feel something. She just wanted peace._

_She broke the surface, her lungs screaming and her body trembling. Gasping for air she managed to clamber back onto the pier. She lay there, feeling the air chill her. Feeling something, finally. Tears came, for the first time in a year she felt sadness seep into the spaces that were previously filled with anger. Sadness on top of anger. Sadness mixing with anger. Sadness distorting anger. Somehow she ended up at home. Something had brought her home in physical safety, but her thoughts were still plagued. This wasn't death, she thought. But it wasn't life. This wasn't anything. This was everything. And this was still nothing. This was existence._

Jade opened her eyes, her breathing heavy and her pulse rapid. She couldn't have fallen asleep. Not in the tub. So it wasn't a dream. It was true. It was memory. It was remembered.

Shaking, she got up and hurried out of the bathroom. She quickly got dressed in whatever she could grab from the floor and left the house.

**~ I hope you liked it! Reviews and comments are appreciated as always.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So this ENTIRE CHAPTER is a FLASHBACK. Let me make that explicitly clear. This. Is. A. Flashback. And I mean this in the nicest of ways, I just don't want anyone to get confused. It starts kind of abruptly so I'll just say that Jade is well, at the hospital where she meets a certain red head. And I know that Beck isn't in this chapter, but that's because at this point in time, Jade hasn't met him yet. So...yeah. Don't hurt me Bade fans. I hope you all enjoy this, the tone is a bit different and I definitely played around a bit with the tenses and the POV to sort of reflect Jade's current mental state. Hint: reviews make me smile.**

"Hey."

Nothing.

"Hi."

Still, nothing.

"Hello."

If you stay silent, they'll go away. They'll think you're stupid. They'll feel sorry for you. They'll run away from you. They'll do anything but bother you.

"Are you deaf?"

This girl wasn't being sarcastic.

"Are you in shock?"

She was still here.

"Why do you look like you went swimming and then someone dried you off with a hairdryer? Oh! Hairdryers!"

Jade could not believe it.

"Why aren't you wearing any shoes?"

She didn't know what to do.

"Why is you wrist bleeding?"

For once in her life, Jade didn't know how to make someone go away.

"Your clothes are very inappropriate."

It wasn't a judgment. Just an observation.

"I'm Cat."

Nothing.

"Can you speak?"

Yes.

"Do you want to speak."

No.

"I like to speak."

Wow.

"It's kind of the only thing I really know I'm good at."

This girl was obviously a patient. She was certifiable.

"They tell me I'm good at other things too. Sometimes I believe them."

Nothing, still.

"Mostly I don't."

Jade stared at the floor wondering if someone would come and take this girl away. Or take _her_ away.

"That's why I'm here really. They tell me things that I don't believe and I get really confused."

She couldn't be older that fifteen. Probably younger.

"I'm almost fifteen."

Wow. Scary.

"They tell me I'm borderline. Do you know what that means?"

Borderline between what and what?

"I mean, borderline between what and what?"

A fat lady came out of an office just then and marched over to the bench where the two girls sat. She really was fat. And quite stupid by the looks of her. All out of breath and self-important.

"Catarina, you are supposed to be in group session right now! How many times do I have to tell you, therapy is not optional. And it really works best when you attend!" she paused as her eyes fell on Jade. A crumpled girl with smudged makeup and no shoes. With blood stains on her shirt and a burn hole in her skirt. A mess. For once she looked like she felt. Like life had chewed her up and spat her back out.

"Who exactly are you?"

And whoooo, pray tell, are youuuuuu?

"Oh," the girl named Cat said, "she doesn't like to speak. They fix things like that here, right?"

The fat woman looked completely nonplussed.

"Well, um, has anybody checked you in or are you admitting yourself?"

Nothing.

"Right, well, I'm sorry, but how did you get in this deplorable state?" she asked with a tone of incredulous pity. She was nice. Just stupid.

Jade didn't say anything, but she felt the overwhelming urge to laugh. Maybe she was still on something. What had she taken tonight? Weed, yes. Alcohol, probably. A pretty little pill. That was it.

So she just sat there, a manic smile breaking over her stony features, taking in the ridiculous scene.

A crazy girl with magenta hair who wouldn't shut up. A cliche of a billowy, flustered nurse. And a half-tripping fourteen year old basket case taken in for psychiatric treatment after an apparent depressive episode by a mother who was probably still in the middle of her own depressive episode. All in a sparklingly white hallway complete with a bulletin board documenting patient merits and overly bright fluorescent lighting.

At least Jade was feeling something.

Jade was feeling something at least.

...

Truthfully, Jade was surprised it took Lila this long to bring her in. All summer she had been doing everything in her power to alarm her mother, but again, communication was not their strong suit.

They needed to keep her there. Suicidal behavior and positive drug tests will tend to get you an indefinite admittance.

It was loud here. Lots of crazy girls screaming about whatever it is that crazy girls scream about. The only one who didn't scream, besides herself, was Cat. Cat liked to sing.

On the fourth day Eric called. She hung up on him at first but he kept trying. After twenty minutes she realized he must be serious so she let him speak.

"Jade. This isn't good. Mom tells me you jumped in the ocean..."

Ha. I was swimming.

"..when you were on MDMA? I mean Jade! This is serious. I know you're angry and all that teenage bullshit and I know I haven't set the best example for you but you are going to get yourself killed. You should be thankful you weren't arrested, all the shit you've pulled this summer!"

Why do you only call when you're worried?

"I get it okay. You're mad I left and you're mad I never call but I have my own crap to sift through too. Maybe, I don't know if you've considered this, but maybe you and mom aren't good for me. I'm doing fine on my own. College is good. It's better than good. It's good for me..."

Is daddy still sending you those lovely little checks?

"... and, and you know what? I'm mad at _you_ Jade. I asked you to take care of her. I asked you to make sure she's okay, that she's taking her meds and that she's OKAY."

That wasn't fair.

"I asked you to do that for me and then she calls me and says you've gone off the rails..."

Off the rails.

"... and that you've barely been home and that you've started hanging around with Jack and Leo and Michelle. Michelle! And you've, you've..."

I've what?

"...you've stopped speaking again!"

Would you prefer it if I stopped eating? Nice change of pace?

"Jade. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. But when I left you were better. I was better. I thought you were okay..."

You're breaking up.

"... Jade please don't hang up. Listen. It's been a year. I've apologized. I've said sorry. But I'll say it again. I'm so sorry you were with me that night. I'm sorry I let you come. I'm an idiot. I'm sorry Jade."

Nothing.

"Please say something."

Something.

"I'll call you soon, okay Eric?"

Goodbye.

...

She had made it almost two months without speaking. Almost two months. But Eric could always get her to speak. He was like that. He was good and amazing. He taught her everything and showed her more. They had that thing that siblings have. That strange ability to become parent or child to each other when needed. Because their own parents were more than slightly inadequate. But now he was gone and she was more alone surrounded by countless doctors and crazy chicks than she had ever been when it was just the four of them in that big fucking house. Four. Three. Two. Now one.

She tried to speak as little as possible, but as soon as the nurses heard her talk to Eric she lost her secret weapon. She lost power. She was diminished.

Still, the only person she really talked to was Cat.

Because the silence had been quite special. Quite beautiful, really.

It was sacred to her. Golden silence. Silver words.

Words were different now. They started flowing with the predictability of tears and the horror of sweat. And she explained to Cat. On the seventeenth day, she explained it all.

...

"Words are different now. Before they floated past, and sometimes I listened. Most of the time, I just heard. I liked the silence.

"People. A lot of them. They thought I was stupid. At least at first sight. Their voices would go all quiet and they'd whisper to each other,

'Ssh, that's that little West girl. Yes, Lila's daughter. Poor thing, I heard she can't talk anymore. Poor thing.'

"I was a poor thing.

"And then they'd awkwardly look away, their eyes full of pity. And relief that their own kids, at least, talked. If only they could have seen how utterly pathetic they were.

"They didn't know, but I saw everything. Everything. You notice more when you aren't preoccupied with speech. I knew about their pathetic affairs. I knew about their fetishes and weird hobbies. I could see relationships that hadn't begun yet and I could tell when they would inevitably end. It was like magic and it gave me power.

"After a while, words changed again. They left me. They weren't part of me anymore. I started to feel this great big cloud. This cloud of words that just hung over everything. It was easy enough to ignore. Or I learned to anyway. And soon, I was free. Detached. I didn't want them and I didn't need them. And I saw everything and I read everything. I read people as easily as Shakespeare. I knew _everything_. It was power. It made me unique and I thought it was beautiful. And truly, it didn't matter what anyone else in the world thought. I was too much.

"But then that power started to scare me a little. Well it alarmed me at least. I knew I could control it _then_. I knew I was strong enough for that power. But I was scared of what would happen if I grew weak. If I couldn't control it one day.

"Do you ever feel like you see too much? I did then. I knew too much. I knew how screwed up everything was. And then about a year ago, when I saw how fucked up beyond belief everything could get, I started to speak again.

"I'd never really intended to keep the silence forever. It would have been nice, but it was only an experiment, an idea stemmed from sheer curiosity. The doctors, they just don't get it. I didn't _like_ talking. I still don't.

"At the start, I wasn't much good at talking again. It wasn't that I'd forgotten. It wasn't that I didn't know what to say. It was just that words were different- they weren't subconscious anymore. So they just come out. Like now. Honesty just comes out. I had to teach myself to lie again.

"But Cat. As soon as I started learning again everything changed. Really, you need to understand this because it's important, but I've never told anyone before. So you have to promise you'll keep this a secret.

_Secrets and Silence._

"My brother moved out last year. And there was an accident. And I was there. I heard it. I heard the noise. I heard the brakes. I heard it, and I just knew. I knew it was him. I knew it was Eric. I didn't have to see. I just knew. I heard the scream. The ear-splitting scream that echoed in my head for days. Even now, I can still hear it. It's still there and it won't go away. It didn't even occur to me until several moments later that that scream was mine. And that's when it gets bad. When the noise and the breaks and the screaming won't stop. And I _still_ hear it.

"He's my brother Cat. He's the only one I ever cared about. Do you know what that's like? To have only _one_ person like that? It's worse than having no one. It's so much worse.

"In that split second, I wasn't myself anymore. I wasn't unique, mysterious, anything. I wasn't anything.

"I suppose I must have ran. I don't really remember. I just remember feeling too heavy for my body. My legs wouldn't move fast enough. I couldn't get there fast enough. I was too late. I was with him for only a second before all these people starting coming, crowding round him, shouting at each other to 'get the kid out of the way so they could see the boy'. They didn't know. They didn't know anything. Eric wouldn't have wanted them. He hates crowds. He hates them because of me, though. Because of what they do to me. The noise, you know?

"All the people with their phones circled round him. They were getting help. Getting doctors, police, help. They were helping, but I was useless. I couldn't do anything, couldn't even move. For a while, I was sort of hysterical. I couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop screaming. The world just stopped. The silence exploded and the words came all at once; nothing was real; but everything was real.

_You're crying now, Jade._

"I tried to get into the ambulance with him, but I couldn't. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even say my name, so they couldn't let me in. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. He just wouldn't leave my head. I remembered him playing with me when we were little. All the other kids laughed at him in the playground for playing with his sister, but he didn't care. He knew I was lonely, and wouldn't leave me. That was just him. I remembered him helping me sneak out. He was the one who showed me how. He was proud of what I've become. That people knew my name and that that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

_Jade doesn't cry._

"But I remembered him looking after me. I remembered it all, and couldn't stand to think that what was happening was real. It shouldn't have been him. It couldn't have been him. Cat, I must have been standing there for ages, still staring at the same spot, long after he'd been taken away. I remember people talking to me, but I never heard them- any of them. I just stood there, motionless. It must have been an hour, at least. I don't remember too much more, except that Eric's friend Nick came and took me to the hospital. I still couldn't speak to him though. I just followed.

"The hospital was horrible. All those machines, all those solemn faces and squeaky shoes and stale, cold air. I still couldn't speak, so I screamed. I screamed when I saw him like that, so helpless. And I was scared. It was the first time I had ever been scared. I never felt so much until that night. Words were heavy and think and they felt like rain, not clouds. They just kept falling, relentless and determined. But I kept talking. When he woke up I couldn't stay silent. The fear changed everything. And now he's not here when I need him. He's better. He's so much better than I'll ever be. And I'm more scared than ever."

And then- utterly spent from all that speaking, too tired to care about the tears trailing down her cheeks- Jade West accepted a hug.

**Reminder: Reviews make me smile.**

**-Ophelie23**


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